


Wandering

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: Fictober 2019 [2]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Picnics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 21:51:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21363226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale have a picnic.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Fictober 2019 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540126
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	Wandering

**Author's Note:**

> For fictober day two: “Just follow me, I know the area.”

“You know, my dear, I really think we’re lost.”

Crowley huffed. “Just follow me, angel. I know the area. I promise you we’re not lost.”

Aziraphale glanced around. He’d been pleased when Crowley had invited him out for a picnic – it combined two of his favorite things, after all, food and the demon who possessed his heart – but his satisfaction had begun waning the longer they wandered. The countryside was lovely, full of rolling hills and gorgeous wildflowers, and any number of spots they’d passed would have been perfect for an afternoon picnic, but Crowley was insistent. He’d waxed poetic about this little stream he’d found once, winding its way between two hills. Aziraphale was getting quite tired of looking for it.

“You know,” he said again, infusing a little more of a gentle nudge into the words, “we could stop here. It really is quite pretty.”

Crowley adjusted his hold on the picnic basket and gave Aziraphale a beseeching look. “We’re almost there, I promise. Just a few more minutes, please? For me?” At Aziraphale’s reluctant pout, he added, “If we’re not there in a few minutes, I promise you we’ll set down wherever you want.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Very well.” Aziraphale let out a put-upon sigh, but he smiled fondly at the demon anyway. “A few minutes more, then.”

They reached the summit of the hill, and Crowley whooped. “See, what’d I tell you?”

Aziraphale’s breath caught. The countryside was charming, but this was downright picturesque, like something out of a children’s storybook. The stream burbled at the base of the hill, the water crystal-clear, with daisies growing all along the banks. Crowley grinned at him. “I’ll race you to the bottom!” And he took off, laughing in delight, with Aziraphale tumbling after him.

At the base of the hill, Crowley spread out the picnic blanket – a lovely tartan one that Aziraphale had gifted him some years back – next to the stream while Aziraphale bent to run his fingers through the cool water. The angel withdrew his hand and shook it dry, turning his attention back to his partner just as Crowley began to pull food from the picnic basket, fruit and cheese and a smattering of bite-sized sandwiches of all kinds. Aziraphale settled next to him on the blanket. “You do spoil me, my dear.” He popped a sandwich into his mouth and chewed with enthusiasm, savoring the flavors.

Crowley kissed his cheek. “I just like making you happy, that’s all.”

“Oh, you do. You make me unbelievably happy.”

The demon blushed and helped himself to some of the grapes. He leaned into Aziraphale’s side, a steady, comfortable pressure there. “The picnic worth the trip, then?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good.”

It was, all in all, a lovely afternoon. They ate and cuddled under the afternoon sun, and when Aziraphale wove a crown out of the daisies by the river, Crowley wore it with pride. In fact, he wore it all the way home.


End file.
